Second Chances
by Rachloveswriting
Summary: Thank you for the reviews! You've spurred me on to keep going! Having just watched the end of S4 again for the first time in 10 years, I feel utterly compelled to write. I used to write under the name Rach-x and my fic was always mega fluff based around my all-time favourite TV pairing, Reddie. This is set post Series 4 Ep 20. Expect angst and fluff!
1. Chapter 1

_**I used to write a lot of FanFic back in the golden days of Waterloo Road (series 3-5). My work was usually around Reddie and, having just watched the end of S4 again for the first time in 10 years, I feel utterly compelled to write. I used to write under the name Rach-x and my fic was always mega fluff based around my all-time favourite TV pairing. I mostly posted on the WR forum and on here. Not sure I'll stick to this but I guess time will tell!**_

She ignored the doorbell the first four times it sounded.

By the fifth ring, it became an incessant drone which was quite clearly a result of someone pressing down on the button. This was swiftly followed by a thump which, had she have not known who had delivered it, would have worried her given the lateness of the hour.

Rachel appraised the situation she currently found herself in and rubbed her neck gently to try and ease the tight knots which had taken residence there are some point over the previous six hours. To her left was balanced an almost empty bottle of wine on the arm rest of the sofa and surrounding her were scattered memories. As soon as she had spoken to the LEA and delivered another blow to the Governing Body, she had driven away from the crumbling remains of her school and relationship, straight to the comfort of her own home and the safety of her dressing gown. She knew the time would come to face the music and begin the long and painful clean up, but other matters needed to be attended to first. If he had taught her anything, it was the importance of self-care and although this was to be temporarily found in the bottom of a glass, she knew better than anyone that surface wounds and structural damage can be fixed. Hearts, however, were a different story.

If you were to ask Rachel what pressed her to disentangle herself from her cocoon and shuffle to the door to answer him, she would perhaps claim some form of temporary madness. The reasons not to seemed to largely outweigh the reasons for giving him an audience. But she'd had a hunch that the parting, in what remained of the playground that they had spent a proportion of their time together over the previous two years, was not final. Despite her better judgement, she unlocked the door and wordlessly held it open to allow him inside.

He looked older - as if the events which had unfolded over the course of the day had aged him. But above all he looked tired and she expected that, judging by the way he stared at her, she did too. Perhaps pain is capable of doing that to a person. What both were feeling, although unspoken, was agony. Not physical agony as such but a burning, crushing pain somewhere in the depths of both of their hearts that then seemed to course around every vein it could and deliver a fresh blow of hurt with each thud.

Eddie's eyes met hers and she saw the embers of a diminished sparkle that had rested there so beautifully only that morning. In return Rachel's had clouded over; shrouded the trust and love that he had spent so long coaxing from them over the previous months.

He was first to break the suffocating silence, his voice barely a whisper. "Rach, I…"

It was then she noticed what he had placed on the floor next to him when he had entered the chilly hallway.

And then she remembered.

And the walls, which she had constructed around her heart at haste that evening, crumbled with force and were quickly joined by a crescendo of feelings. He caught her as she fell and, as the two stood entwined, the passing minutes came to a standstill and watched the scene unfurl before them.


	2. Chapter 2

Neither were sure how long they remained entangled, rooted to the spot. The lateness of the hour did not matter: it was not as if sleep would be forthcoming or particularly welcome. The slight heady sensation - a toxic combination of wine and tiredness - swam through her and the need to regain composure overcame her.

She read his crestfallen expression as she dropped her hands but offered him a half, watery smile as a compromise and it was one he was certainly willing to accept. Slipping his crumpled jacket off and onto the bottom of the stair rail, he followed her into the living room. It was an easy and well practised motion and one which she would have rolled her eyes at the previous day. He knew her overwhelming need for order and yet still refused to use the coat stand next to the radiator in the hall. Still, she didn't mind really: at least it meant he was once again in the space which had felt so overwhelmingly lonely and suffocating.

Rachel allowed him a moment to survey the view that greeted him before retreating and padding into the kitchen. She knew he wouldn't follow her and it would give her the opportunity to process her thoughts. The gentle pitter patter of summer rain was the only sound against the French doors and she switched on the fairy lights surrounding them to try and flood the space with warmth. She opened the fridge and pondered over its contents. More wine seemed to be an option but instead her fingers looped through the handle of the milk. Retrieving it, she placed it on the counter and flicked the kettle to boil in one swift movement. Teabags were deposited in cups, swiftly followed by sugar and a dash of milk for him. She was on autopilot as she placed a plate of chocolate digestives onto the tray to join them. All of the tiny movements were enough to make things seem routine, ordered, controlled.

"Tea? Choccy biscuits?"

Her voice pierced not painfully through this thoughts. His eyes adjusted to the new brightness offered by the table lamp which she had switched on next to his side of the sofa. Momentarily, Eddie rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand in a half-hearted attempt to disguise the fact that he'd been crying. However, he knew she had been able to tell because she ushered what remained of a box of tissues in his direction.

"Pinch the bridge of your nose and take some deep breaths," she offered, following the tissues with his tea. "I found it worked for me this afternoon."

"I...um...Rach...I" was all he could offer by way of a reply.

"S'ok Eddie. It's me. You know you don't have to pretend with me. I'd join you but I don't think I've got anything left in me to cry." She delivered this with an attempt at a smile but it fell short and her voice wavered. "Chocolate helps. I had it for dinner tonight and it definitely has healing properties."

This had the effect she desired. Immediately, his eyes crinkled at the sides, as they so often had done that summer, and his mouth curved reluctantly into a smile. "Sometimes you are so full of-". He regailed her raised eyebrows and rephrased his words. "I'm not sure that has ever actually be scientifically proven you know, Rach. But I'm willing to give it a try."

Both were silent for a while after that. Eddie rested back into the comfort the sofa offered him and he felt warm for the first time since that morning. Rachel sat next to him, tucking her legs beneath her and, drawing her favourite blanket around her, she helped herself to another biscuit.

Strewn around them on the coffee table and the floor, were photographs, tickets, post it notes and cards. He recognised every one of them: each a memory or significant moment in their relationship. What he could not understand, however,, was what Rachel was planning to do with them.

"I was going to give this to you on the plane tomorrow," was the explanation that came. "I...I wanted to do something special for you. My way of saying thanks for...well..." Rachel faltered slightly, a slight flush creeping onto her cheeks as she refused to meet his questioning eyes. Before continuing, she reached across to the patterned book which rested amongst the chaos. "I like scrapbooks which probably sounds strange. Even when I was younger, I'd collect everything together any time we went on holiday and keep it in a box or an album. I...I thought I would compile all the happy things I associated with you...with us, and well...I've been working on this all week but now it seems stupid. I feel so stupid, Eddie. And scared. How can something so right suddenly feel so wrong?"

He didn't know how to answer her question but took the book from her and opened it carefully. She recoiled, her embarrassment evident as she made attempts to untangle herself from her blanket and move away. But he did not let her; his hand on hers was enough to halt her movements and encouraged her to rejoin him on the sofa. Only this time, she found herself pressed against him as she felt the blanket being wrapped around them both. Rooted. Grounded. Safe.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Thank you so much for the lovely comments! They really do mean a lot. I fell out of love with writing a while back and it had made me realise how much I do still enjoy it & want to carry on x _**

"Rach, why are you burrowing your face in the blanket?" He stared at her pointedly, a smile forming as he felt her squirm next to him. When no reply was forthcoming, he turned his attention back to the scrapbook which lay open on his lap.

"S'embarassing," was the reply when it eventually came from the blanket. Lifting her head, Rachel noticed the page he was on. "Although I don't know why I feel embarrassed...at least I could bowl in a straight line," she teased, nodding towards the strip of photographs stuck onto the black background. They had been taken on the spur of a moment in a photobooth as they left the bowling alley, giggling like teenagers. Her flushed cheeks, his sparkling eyes and the unmistakable euphoria that neither could conceal smiled up at them from the photograph. It was frozen in time and, although neither were aware, it was mirrored in the look they exchanged now sat closely together on her sofa.

"Alright, alright, so you won that one! But we both know that I'm the best cook," he retorted, before flicking the pages to find the photograph he was looking for. "Look! Proof!" And there indeed was proof: evidence from the school's Bake Off challenge which the staff had been forced into joining. Hers was - to her own admission- somewhat lopsided and perhaps a little undercooked at best. Eddie, however, had revealed himself to be somewhat of a whizz with flavouring and had triumphed with an exquisite batch of macarons.

She bit her lip in a desperate attempt to suppress a giggle but it took no notice of her resolve and escaped as a laugh before she regained control, her hands raised. "Ok, ok, I admit it! You definitely win that one! Although the proof will well and truly be in the pudding when we try the real thing in Paris, Lawson!"

It took her a moment to realise what she had done. Her words, which she always crafted so carefully, had betrayed her and changed the atmosphere in the room, extinguishing the flicker which had tentatively reignited between them. The easy familiarity that had always existed between them; the routine chatter and ease in each other presence had crept back in. Except it wasn't supposed to feel familiar anymore. It wasn't supposed to be an option. He wasn't supposed to be there.

He sensed that she did not have a way back; that she was unable to find a way to undo the line which had delivered the final blow to his breaking heart. "When we try the real thing in Paris, Lawson."

"Rach, we-"

"I'm sorry, Eddie. I...I don't know what came over me. Perhaps...no, not perhaps...definitely...it's definitely time for you to go. I...we...I can't do this. This is why it needed to be goodbye this afternoon because I knew that if I saw you again, everything I feel...everything I've ever felt would just...be."

She stumbled over the words, grasping frantically for a way to put her feelings into a jumble of words and gestures. There appeared to be no order or clarity to them but, for once, she did not care. "Everyhing I've ever felt would still be here and then I would know I couldn't let you go again. Not twice. Not even I'm stupid enough to let you go twice. But I have to, don't I?" Because Paris is for dreamers and this...us. This is real life and we can't be together. You've got a chance to be happy without me and I want you to take it."

His reply was barely a whisper when it escaped him. "That's why I came tonight, Rach. To tell you that I'm not taking it. I'm not losing what we have for the sake of a chance that maybe one day I'll feel happy again." He reached over to take her hands in his own and she made no move to stop him. "I'm here to say that we are going to Paris and we're going to eat macarons until the sun sets and after that, I'm going to hold you and never let you go. That's why I'm here, Rachel. And it's the reason why it is definitely not time for me to go. This...us...give us the chance of that holiday of a lifetime that we both so badly need. Perhaps then you'll realise that what makes me happiest is being anywhere you are."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Thanks again for the lovely comments! Loving exploring the Reddie relationship and hopefully giving us the ending we all so wanted all those years ago x**_

He had thought of everything and that surprised her somewhat. Every question, doubt or protest she threw in his direction, he dodged expertly. Some would argue that his ability to second guess what she intended to say before the words left her meant that he knew her better than she knew herself. And she would be forced to concede that they would almost certainly be right.

Rachel learnt many things about Eddie that night. Things she had long suspected and things that she had, in her heart, always known to be true of him. He had been thoughtful, measured and calm in the way he had approached and tackled her uncertainties. There was definitely the element of impulsiveness in his actions and she saw this as both an endearing yet frustrating trait of his character. It was hard for her not to ponder over the situations it had landed them in before. She knew the foundations of his relationship with Melissa had been formed on impusle - he hadn't wanted to be alone anymore and she, more than anyone, could understand that. However, how could she land blame for that at his door? It was not as if she had offered him much choice. Perhaps if she had not so forcefully rejected him the first time he had told her how he felt then he would not have acted in such a way. Perhaps then they would not be forced to sift through the painful fragments of their dying relationship, trying desperately to find a way through the wreckage.

He knew he had won. When she yawned loudly and made no attempts to disguise how tired she suddenly felt, her fingers gently massaging the puffiness around her eyes, she offered a nod in his direction. That was all that was needed. A simple action enough to confirm that she admitted defeat and wanted to let him go about as much as he wanted to let her go. As in not at all. Not that afternoon. Not as they sat in her living room as time edged closer and closer to the witching hour. Not in the morning when they had both come to their senses. Not ever.

"You sure?" he questioned, seeking confirmation although he did not really need it.

Her reply was not instantly forthcoming but her mouth twitched at the corners and her eyes opened to meet his. "No, course I'm not sure. It is probably a very terrible idea to try and find a way back for us."

"But?"

"What do you mean 'but'?" She offered a smile and a playful tone edged her retort.

"Well there is usually a 'but' with you, Rach. You know, when you try to make out something is a good or bad idea and then, to re-address the balance, you always give the counter argument."

Pretending to be wounded by his words, she picked up her blanket and swiped him with it in protest. "I can't believe you would accuse me of that! One of us needs to take a balanced view of things, Eddie! I am prepared to concede defeat on this one because the counter argument is the winning one this time. Now, if you'll let me finish."

Eddie rolled his eyes in mock despair before mumbling something under his breath and motioning for her to continue.

"Thank you. As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, no, of course I'm not sure. It is probably a very terrible idea to try and find a way back for us. But everything you've said over the last few hours makes sense and I want to try. I want to see if there is a way back for us."


End file.
